


Far Longer Than Forever

by superhoney



Series: Regency Romance [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Class Differences, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/M, Fluff, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Minor Charlie Bradbury/Gilda, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 14:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15665505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superhoney/pseuds/superhoney
Summary: The wedding of Sam Winchester and Sarah Blake is sure to be one of the grandest events London society has seen in years.





	Far Longer Than Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dear readers! I'm so happy to be back writing in this 'verse again. This is the first of three timestamps I have planned to round out the series. This one is a bit less focused on Castiel and Dean, but I hope you enjoy it regardless. 
> 
> Thank you to zaphodsgirl for the efficient and enthusiastic beta-read. Yes, the title is from the song from The Swan Princess.

A faint knocking rouses Dean from his slumber. Grumbling, he turns over and buries his head in the pillows, hoping to drown out the noise. Castiel sleeps on, undisturbed by the sound. The knocking is sharply cut off, and Dean breathes a sigh of relief, but too soon. It starts again, and closer this time.

On their bedchamber door, in fact.

His annoyance turning to alarm, Dean rolls out of bed and throws on his dressing gown, opening the chamber door to reveal Alfie’s face. “Your brother is here, my lord.”

“Sam?” Icy fear grips at Dean’s heart. “Is he--”

“He’s unhurt, my lord, but insistent on seeing you.”

Behind them, Castiel stirs. “I’ll be down in a moment,” Dean tells Alfie. “Show Sam into the drawing room, if you haven’t already. Thank you, Alfie.”

“What is it?” Castiel sits up in bed, the sheets pooling at his waist. Faint moonlight from the window spills over his bare chest and shoulders, distracting Dean for a brief moment.

He shakes his head and belts his dressing gown more firmly around his waist. “I’ll soon find out. Go back to sleep, my lord.”

“Little chance of that, now, without you here beside me.” Castiel swings out of bed and reaches for his own dressing gown. “Let us see what is so important that it could not wait until a more respectable hour.”

Sam is pacing the length of the drawing room when they enter. Dean’s eyes immediately sweep over him, checking for any signs of injury, physical or otherwise. He sees nothing to cause alarm, and his confusion grows.

“I’m sorry for visiting so late,” Sam says, coming to a stop before the window. “I suppose I interrupted your sleep.”

“Yes, you did.” Dean folds his arms across his chest and raises one eyebrow at Sam, a haughty gesture he’s learned to employ to great effect over the years. “Fortunately for you, we were only sleeping. Had we been engaged in other bedroom activities, I would happily have left you here waiting until morning.”

Castiel bites his lip to hold back laughter as Sam grimaces. Even after two years of such needling, Dean knows precisely how to discomfit him, much to Sam’s chagrin.

“It’s strange that you use the word fortunate,” Sam says, doing his best to ignore Dean’s remark. “I do indeed consider myself most fortunate, and that is why I came to see you despite the lateness of the hour.”

Castiel smiles at him. “Please, explain.”

Sam lets out a shaky breath, a grin spreading across his face. “I have asked Sarah to marry me, and she has said yes.”

There is a second of stunned silence, and then Dean laughs, an expression of pure joy that his body simply cannot contain. He crosses the room in two great strides and gathers Sam in his arms, pounding him on the back. “Of course she said yes! Congratulations, Sam. I have always known the two of you would make a match of it.”

Rising to his feet, Castiel extends his hand to Sam, who shakes it firmly. “My congratulations, Sam. I’m so pleased for the both of you.”

Still beaming, Sam takes his seat. “I know I’m unfashionably young to be marrying, but after all, I am not a gentleman by birth. And despite her manners and her father’s wealth, Sarah is not a lady, as she so frequently delights in reminding me.”

“You are young in years,” Castiel agrees, “but anyone who has witnessed the two of you together can see how deeply you care for one another.”

Sam nods, his smile fading. “There is another reason.”

Dean’s head whips sharply up. There is an all-too common reason men and women marry in haste. He narrows his eyes at his brother. “Sam, she isn’t--”

“No!” Sam exclaims, flushing. “No, of course not.” He sighs, folding his hands in his lap. “It’s her father. He suffered a minor attack of the heart last week, and though he’s already feeling better, the physicians have warned him it may occur again. Being of a dramatic temperament, he has declared that he simply must see Sarah wed in case he is taken from us too soon.”

It sounds like exactly the sort of pronouncement the garrulous Mr. Blake would make. “Is there truly a danger of that happening?” Dean asks, his own good mood giving way. He has become rather fond of Mr. Blake over the last two years.

Sam shrugs. “Who can say with certainty? But both Sarah and I have known for some time we wished to marry. We’re only bringing about that reality sooner than expected.”

“It is a good match,” Castiel says with a thoughtful nod. “Mr. Blake sees his beloved daughter secure, and once you are officially a member of the family, it will be much easier for you to gradually take responsibility for his business dealings if his health does begin to decline.”

“Yes, precisely. I have learned a great deal at his side over the past two years, but I still have much to learn.”

A lump rises in Dean’s throat as he listens to Sam speak. How far they’ve come in the two years since they found each other again. After those first tense weeks, they slowly began to rebuild their relationship, taking the time to let it develop naturally. Sam spent a great deal of time traveling between London and the country, spending time with both of his families. And while he was in London, he paid steady court to Miss Blake, winning the trust and admiration of her father, who took him under his wing and introduced him to the world of commerce. In just two years, Sam Winchester has become a well-known young man about the city, a man on the rise. Dean is so proud of him he thinks he might burst with it. 

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice breaks into his thoughts. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” Dean smiles, bringing himself back to the present moment. “Of course. I was just thinking how proud of you I am, Sam.”

Even across the room, Dean can see Sam swallow. “Good,” he says. “Because I have a favour to ask of you.”

“Anything.”

Sam smiles at him, only a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “Will you stand as my best man?”

At first, Dean can only nod. His throat is too choked with emotion to allow any words past. After a long pause, he manages to say, “I would be honoured.” And then he’s pulling Sam in for another embrace, and if a few tears escape his eyes, they’re hidden from view as his face is pressed against Sam’s broad shoulder. 

After a congratulatory glass of brandy and a detailed description of the proposal-- which took place earlier this evening at Vauxhall Gardens-- Sam returns to his bachelor lodgings. Dean and Castiel wave him goodbye, then return to their bedchamber, but Dean is too excited to sleep. 

“A wedding,” he says, grinning at Castiel. “I cannot wait to inform Celeste. Between the two of us, we will surely plan the grandest event of the year.”

“I do not doubt it.” Castiel smiles at him, indulgent. “Come to bed, Dean. You’ll need your rest if you are to throw yourself into your planning tomorrow.”

Laughing, Dean kisses him, an affectionate gesture that soon turns deeper. His hands slide between them to untie Castiel’s dressing gown as he presses a kiss to the bolt of his jaw. “Rest? No, I think not, my lord. I have far more diverting activities in mind.”

***

The next day, Dean pays a visit to Celeste and Gilda. Sam had given his permission for Dean to pass along the good news of his betrothal, but considering their close friendship with Sarah, Dean expects they will already be aware.

In this, he is correct. The instant he enters their drawing room, Celeste lets out a most undignified shout and dashes across the room to grasp his elbows. “Oh, Dean, isn’t it wonderful!”

“It is,” he agrees, exchanging an amused glance with Gilda over her head. “I am most delighted for them.”

“And to think, they met at one of our dinner parties.” Celeste grins at the memory. “Oh, how I shall tease them about that for years to come.”

“Your matchmaking skills are unrivaled, my love.” Gilda shakes her head in amusement. “And now that you have successfully paired them off, you have the double delight of assisting in the preparations for their wedding. How very clever of you.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Celeste beams at her wife and blows her a kiss across the room. “Dean, you surely have some ideas already as well. Sarah says they will be married here in town, though she does like the thought of a country wedding.”

Dean grins at her, her enthusiasm catching. “I am certain I could persuade Castiel to lend them the use of his country home for their honeymoon, should they desire it.”

“My dears, perhaps you might hold off on your schemes.” Gilda rises to her feet and looks up at the clock above the fire. “I took the liberty of inviting Miss Blake to call on us here today, and it would surely be more efficient to wait until she is here before becoming too firmly attached to any of your plans.”

Celeste pauses in whatever she was about to say, mouth hanging wide, then begins to laugh. Dean joins her, and that’s how Sarah finds them when she sweeps into the room only minutes later, her smiling face even more beautiful than usual.

“Goodness,” she says, “I do hope this is in reaction to some joke I have missed and not in reaction to my upcoming nuptials.”

Dean smiles at her and makes her his most elegant bow. “We are laughing at ourselves, Miss Blake, and not at you.” He holds his arms wide and she comes forward without hesitation to be embraced. “I am so pleased to soon be able to call you sister.”

“I have always wished for a sibling,” she says, smiling up at him as she withdraws. “And I could not ask for a better one than you.”

Celeste gives a dreamy sigh, drawing their attention back to her. “Such a happy occasion.” Her eyes suddenly change from soft and unfocused to commanding and fierce. “The wedding will be soon, Sarah?”

Sarah nods. “Just over a month from today. My father wants us wed quickly. I think if he had his way it would be by special license tomorrow, but both Sam and I want to do things properly.”

Celeste is already rummaging for paper in the desk by the window. “There is much to be done, and quickly. Now, tell me: will it be a large ceremony?”

The afternoon passes in a flurry of plans and dreams. Sarah, like most young people, already has several firm ideas concerning her wedding, but is equally delighted to listen to Dean and Celeste’s as well. Her father has made it clear that no expense is to be spared, and so they allow themselves no limit to their designs. 

It’s understandable, then, that when Sam enters the drawing room that evening, his eyes widen at the piles of paper tossed around the room. He crosses over to Sarah and presses a restrained kiss to her cheek, though the glow in both of their faces speaks for itself. “No second thoughts, then?” he teases.

She swats at his chest with one hand and he dodges, laughing. “Not until this moment.”

“Ah, young love.” Gilda’s face remains as serene as ever, but a mischievous twinkle lights her eyes. “Were we ever so foolish, Celeste?”

“Much worse.” Celeste throws her head back and laughs. “Much, much worse.”

“Do not encourage them,” Dean says with a shudder, though he winks at Sam. “If they demonstrate too much affection towards one another, they’ll soon tire of each other and all our careful planning will be naught.”

“Never.” Sam rests a hand on Sarah’s shoulder and she tips her head up to smile at him. “Though I do wonder at these plans you speak of.”

“We will share them with you over dinner,” Celeste says. “We only await our last guest.”

She smiles at Dean as she finishes, and he knows immediately that Castiel is the guest she speaks of. He turns his head towards the door and sure enough, Castiel comes striding through it only a few minutes later, breaking into a smile at the sight of them all gathered together.

“A fine welcome this is,” he says. His eyes light upon Sarah and he crosses the room to kiss her hand, a gallant gesture that has her flushing and Dean smiling to himself at the courtliness of it all. “My congratulations, Miss Blake.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She rises gracefully to her feet and settles her hand on his extended arm. “Shall we go in to dinner? We have much to share with you.”

It’s a comfortable meal, just the six of them. They’ve passed many an evening in just such an arrangement, but the excitement of the upcoming wedding lends a festive air to the occasion. As Sarah explains that they have settled on St. George’s as the venue, Castiel politely clears his throat, interrupting her.

“My apologies,” he says. “I have had little to do with the planning so far, as I am content to leave it to those better suited to such a task. But I have one request I hoped you might honour.”

“Of course,” Sam replies, and Sarah nods in agreement.

“You must allow me to host the wedding breakfast at Milton House.” Castiel uses his most lordly voice, but beneath the element of command, it’s warm with his affection for the betrothed couple. 

Sarah’s eyes widen. “Oh, my lord, what a generous offer.”

“We would not want to trouble you--” Sam begins, but Castiel holds up a hand to stop him.

“It is no trouble at all. Indeed, it would be my pleasure.” He smiles at Sam, then. “You will have Dean to stand at your side during the ceremony, Sam, but you must know by now I consider you a brother. Let me do this.”

Eyes bright, Sam nods. Sarah beams at Castiel, reaching across the table to lay a hand on his arm. “We accept gladly. I shall inform my father immediately so he does not make any preparations of his own.”

“How is he faring?” Castiel asks.

“He seems much refreshed by our news.” Sarah laughs, shaking her head. “Had I not been there when he suffered the attack, I might have suspected him of inventing the entire thing in order to hasten our betrothal. He is in excellent spirits now.”

“And does he not wish to be involved in the planning of your wedding?” Gilda asks. “Or is he content to leave it all to you and your enthusiastic friends?”

“Oh, all he truly cares about is that it’s happening, and that I am happy.” Sarah blushes, looking rather pleased with herself. “And since those conditions are met, anything else is left in my hands.”

“And those of your friends,” Sam adds. He grins at Dean, who is seated to his left. “It will be good practice for your own wedding, will it not?”

Dean feels his smile slide off his lips, and quickly forces it to return. Already turning away to make some comment to Gilda, Sam doesn’t notice, but across the table, Castiel’s eyes flick to meet his for a brief second before returning to Celeste at his side. 

It has been nearly three years since he and Castiel met. After those tumultuous early days when Dean struggled to balance his growing affection for Castiel with his bargain with Zachariah and Uriel, things have mostly settled between them. The doubt that plagued them both during their search for Sam has given way to trust and contentment, and to the deepest relationship Dean has ever known. 

And yet Castiel has never spoken to him of marriage.

Dean is secure in Castiel’s love. He knows they are committed to one another. But now, in light of Sam and Sarah’s happiness, the oversight does seem strange. Society has long since accepted the mysteries of Dean’s origins, and both he and Sam have been embraced by London’s most wealthy and titled citizens. And Castiel has never cared about Dean’s lack of social standing, or about his checkered history. 

If not for that reason, then why?

The question plagues Dean throughout the rest of the meal. They sit and chat late into the evening, and while he does his best to remain cheerful and teasing, as is expected of him, his misery only increases as the night goes on. By the time they drop Sam off at his lodgings and continue back towards home, Dean has withdrawn into himself, quiet and watchful.

Across the carriage, Castiel gives him concerned looks, but does not question him until they are safely ensconced in their bedchamber, preparing for sleep. 

“Is something troubling you?” he asks, slipping his nightshirt over his head. “I did not wish to speak of it in front of the others.”

Dean finishes changing before he answers. He swore to himself long ago that he would not allow himself to retreat behind platitudes and fake cheer, not with Castiel. He owes him more than that. But it is by no means a simple thing, to bare his heart so freely. 

“I was just thinking about the reasons one marries,” he says, not meeting Castiel’s eyes. “Sam and Sarah are very much in love, as we all know, but have made no secret of the fact that this wedding is mostly at her father’s wishes.”

Fortunately, Castiel has come to learn how to understand the words Dean does not say, how to interpret his statements and reveal the truth beneath them. “You wonder why we have not married.”

Dean gives him a wry smile as he slides into bed. It is an inconvenient thing, sometimes, to have so perceptive a lover. “Yes.”

Castiel does not immediately join him. He stands by the window, his back to Dean. “Would you accept the answer that it has not even crossed my mind, so perfect has our happiness been?”

“If I believed it were the truth, yes. But as I do not--”

With a shake of his head, Castiel turns back to the bed, perching lightly on its edge. Not quite close enough to touch, but closer than before. “You know I was much sought-after as a younger man, due to my wealth and title.”

“Yes.” Dean remembers that afternoon spent in the field near Castiel’s country estate, the painful history Castiel shared with him then. “Of course.”

“Among the upper classes, marriage is--” Castiel hesitates, a look of distaste crossing his face. “Transactional. It rarely involves any depth of feeling, any actual desire on the part of those involved.”

“Celeste and Gilda love each other deeply,” Dean points out.

Castiel smiles. “They do. Sadly, they are one of few exceptions who prove the rule.”

He does not want a marriage like so many others of his rank and influence have. So be it. Would a marriage to Dean not by its very nature be entirely opposite? They love each other. Dean is sure of it. Their marriage would not be transactional, as Castiel put it.

“I should have spoken to you of this before.” Castiel reaches out a hand, frowning. “I never asked you your feelings on the matter. For that, I am deeply sorry, Dean.”

Dean reaches out and takes hold of his hand, drawing him down onto the bed. “It is forgiven. I understand, my lord. I ask only one thing to settle the matter once and for all.”

“Anything.” Cas gazes at him, that steady look Dean knows so well.

“Tell me you love me,” Dean whispers. His heart beats rapidly in his chest. He will be content with this. With Castiel’s love.

“I love you.” Castiel raises their joined hands to his lips and presses a kiss to Dean’s palm. “I love you, Dean, and if marriage is something you need to prove that to you, I will wed you gladly.”

“No.” Dean shakes his head. “I do not need it, Castiel. I need only your love, and I am assured that I have it.”

Perhaps sensing his lingering doubts, Castiel proves it not only with his words but with his body that night, worshipping Dean with kisses and caresses that communicate his adoration just as eloquently as does speech. 

Later, after Castiel has drifted off to sleep, Dean lies awake. He does not need to be wed to Castiel. But in the hidden depths of his heart, where his greatest desires reside, he wants to be.

***

Dean hardly has time to think about his own troubles for the next month. His days are taken over by planning, his evenings by a never-ending round of social events celebrating the happy couple. Sam and Sarah have many friends, all of whom are delighted on their behalf and who insist on showing that delight through some lavish entertainment. As brother to the groom, Dean is an honoured guest at all of these events.

Ellen and Jo arrive a week before the wedding and are immediately swept up in the festivities. Dean is pleased to have the opportunity to spend more time with them, and pleased that Sam has his entire family around him as he prepares for this new adventure. Ellen fusses over Mr. Blake with her customary brusqueness while Jo watches with barely-stifled laughter and Sam beams with pride at the smoothness with which they all come together.

Somehow, it’s the night before the wedding. After a lavish family dinner, Sarah and Mr. Blake have returned home, and Jo and Ellen have retired to bed. Sam, Dean, and Castiel sit alone in the parlour, brandy in hand.

“I can’t stop imagining everything that could go wrong,” Sam says, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. “What if Sarah changes her mind? What if Mr. Blake suffers another heart attack before the ceremony? What if there is an accident with the carriage?”

Dean widens his eyes and looks at Castiel, pleading. He’s far better at offering comfort than Dean is. Castiel smiles and directs his attention to Sam, who is drumming his fingers against the side of his chair, lips set in a thin line. “Nothing is going to go wrong,” he says, voice firm. “It’s just nerves talking. You’ll forget all your worries the instant you see Sarah enter the church, I’m sure of it.”

“I certainly hope so.” Sam turns to Dean, a panicked expression on his face. “You have the rings? You haven’t lost them?”

Under other circumstances, Dean might be tempted to mock his brother for his worries. But it’s clear Sam’s fear is genuine, and so he simply nods. “Secure in a drawer in our chamber. I will not forget them, Sam. Everything is going to be perfect.”

Sam lets out a heavy sigh. “I certainly hope so. Sarah deserves nothing less. Am I making a mistake, Dean? She could have anyone she desired, and yet she has chosen me.”

“She has. And that’s all that matters.” Dean looks over and gives Castiel a fond look. “Love, freely chosen, is what we will celebrate tomorrow. It is a blessing, Sam. Do not question it.”

“Wise words,” Castiel murmurs. He rises to his feet and crosses the room to drop a kiss on Dean’s cheek, then shake Sam’s hand. “I’m for my bed. You ought not stay up much longer yourselves, though you are young enough to better handle a night of little sleep.”

“I’ll be along shortly.” Dean smiles up at him, grateful as ever for his remarkable tact and awareness. “Goodnight, my lord.”

After Castiel has left, Dean fixes his brother with a stern look. “Now. What is this all about, Sam? You suddenly fear Sarah will wake tomorrow and regret her decision?”

“I’ve always feared it.” Sam’s voice is barely above a whisper. “To varying degrees. I’ve always feared I am not enough for her.”

Dean’s heart aches for his brother, for the raw pain he sees on his face. But through some blessing of circumstance, he is able to offer his own experience as a balm to Sam’s fears. “I worried about that with Castiel as well, you know.”

Sam lifts his head and looks at Dean in surprise. “But Castiel loves you. It’s clear to anyone who sees you together.”

“Yes.” Dean raises an eyebrow at him. “As is the way Sarah loves you. Surely you do not doubt that, Sam. To do so would be to cast aspersions on her honour and her character, which I know you would never do.”

“Of course not!” Sam exclaims. “I do know that she loves me, and it leaves me awed and humbled. Not because of her more exalted social standing, but simply because of who she is.”

Dean smiles gently. “You love her for who she is, Sam. A most admirable person. But a person nonetheless, one with very real feelings and worries of her own. Perhaps she doubts she is doing the right thing, taking you away from your family’s business and into her father’s. Perhaps she worries she is trapping you into marriage too young. I am not suggesting any of these things are true, but only that wealth and status do not always convey full confidence. If she loves you enough to be brave in spite of these fears she may feel, then should you not honour her by doing the same?”

At some point during this speech, Sam’s eyes have gone wide. He looks at Dean now with surprise and considerable respect in his gaze. “Good God, Dean. When did you become so wise?”

Shrugging, Dean winks at him. “I am in my middle twenties now, Sam. A veritable elder, and a fountain of wisdom.”

Sam shakes his head. “No, that is not it.” He gives Dean a considering look. “I suspect it has more to do with you and Castiel. You said you had worried about a similar issue with him. Is this how you moved past it?”

“Yes,” Dean admits. It does not hurt to remember, now, those dreadful weeks when he feared Castiel would leave him for Balthazar. In many ways, that doubt was a necessary catalyst for the security and comfort they now enjoy together. “I thought he would want someone closer to his own rank. Someone with a less troubled past. But to deny him his love for me, or to question it, was an insult to him. He loves me as I am, just as I love him as he is.”

Slowly, Sam nods. “I am happy for you, Dean. And counting myself very fortunate indeed to have you with me once more. I don’t know if I could do this without you.”

At that, Dean has to close his eyes, overwhelmed. “Of course you could,” he says roughly. “But I am glad for both of our sakes that you do not have to.”

He gets to his feet and walks across to Sam’s chair, extending a hand to pull him up and into an embrace. “Everything is going to be fine, Sam. I promise you.”

Sam relaxes into his hold. For a moment, he seems far too young to be getting married on the morrow. But then he draws back, raises his chin, and smiles, and Dean sees the man he is becoming, the man he is so proud to call his brother. 

“Now,” Dean says, shaking a finger in his face, “you must get some rest. You’ll want to have plenty of energy for the wedding night.”

Flushing crimson, Sam sputters out an indignant response that is lost to the sound of Dean’s laughter. Arms around each other’s shoulders, they make their way upstairs.

***

As Dean promised, the wedding is perfect.

He stands beside his brother in front of the altar, both of them dressed in their finest. He can see Castiel, Celeste, Gilda, Jo, and Ellen all in the front pews, many other friends and acquaintances behind them. A hush falls over the assembled guests and Sam straightens, his eyes fixed on the back of the church as Sarah enters. 

She looks positively radiant, gliding towards them on her father’s arm. Dean sneaks a glance at Sam and sees his eyes fill with tears as Sarah draws nearer. His own throat feels suspiciously tight, and when he looks back into the crowd, he sees Castiel gazing at him with pride and affection. Dean winks at him as discreetly as he can, then turns his attention back to the bride and groom.

The ceremony is brief but beautiful. Dean passes over the rings as required, relieved that his duties have been discharged without complications. Sam’s voice shakes slightly as he makes his vows, but his hands are steady as he slides the ring onto Sarah’s finger. She makes her own vows with joy ringing from every word, and then they are proclaimed man and wife. 

As they leave the church and make for the carriage waiting outside, they’re greeted with a shower of rose petals, tossed over them by a group of their friends. Sarah laughs and plucks a petal from Sam’s hair and throws it back at the cheering crowd. Sam catches her around the waist and draws her in for a kiss, the petals still raining down upon them. It’s like something out of a fairy tale, and it’s a moment Dean knows he will remember to the end of his days.

The wedding breakfast is a joyful, exuberant affair. Celeste and Sarah conspired to plan the seating arrangements along less than traditional lines, placing members of Sarah’s respectable but decidedly working-class family alongside some of wealthier, titled guests. Their gamble pays off beautifully, all the guests being of congenial natures and more than happy to make conversation with whoever they happen to be seated beside. From his place near the centre of the table, Dean observes the unlikely pairings and smiles to himself.

“You really are quite frighteningly good at this.” Castiel has to lean in closer to Dean to be heard over the merry chatter. “You and Celeste make a formidable team.”

“We certainly do.” Dean inclines his head in acknowledgment of Celeste, seated across from him. She beams at them before turning back to her conversation with Jo, who has taken to London quite well considering her earlier disinclination to spend any time in the city. “I just want everything to be perfect for Sam and Sarah.”

“I think you’ve succeeded in that regard.” Castiel turns to look at the happy couple, a proud smile on his face. Dean follows his gaze, a smile of his own appearing as he observes them.

They are seated much closer together than usual, and Sam has one arm resting along the back of Sarah’s chair. She laughs at something he says in reply to one of her cousins and turns to smile at him, pure love radiating from her smile. They look young and beautiful and perfectly happy. Whatever fears Sam had felt the night before have evidently vanished, and while Dean will not take full credit for it, he is happy to have been of service in that regard.

There’s a stir on the other side of the newly wedded couple, and Dean looks over in interest as Mr. Blake rises to his feet, wine glass in hand. “A toast,” he declares, a broad smile on his face. “A toast to the happy couple.”

Both Sam and Sarah look slightly abashed, as though they thought they might somehow escape such gestures. The guests fall silent and lean towards the centre of the table as Mr. Blake resumes. “Thank you all for joining us here today, and particular thanks to Lord Castiel for hosting us.” There’s a light round of applause, which Castiel acknowledges with a smile and a wave, and then Mr. Blake continues. “I have long doted on my beloved daughter, and it is with great pride that I watched her join her fate to young Mr. Winchester’s today. Sarah, my dear, you have made me so very happy this day. And Sam, I am pleased to have gained such an admirable young man as a son.” He pauses for a moment, wiping at his face with a handkerchief. “I wish you both all the happiness in the world, and I hope that I may bear witness to it for many years to come.”

The room breaks into applause as he finishes speaking and Sarah rises to her feet to embrace him. When they part, Dean can see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. She sits down and Sam immediately joins his hand to hers as he nods at Mr. Blake, his own eyes suspiciously bright. 

Dean takes a deep breath. Across the table, Celeste nods at him in enthusiastic encouragement. Castiel just looks at him, steady as ever, and offers a small smile. 

He stands, every eye in the room suddenly fixed on him. Sarah tilts her head at him, inquisitive, while Sam frowns, likely imagining the worst.

“While I believe Mr. Blake has already spoken the most important blessing,” Dean begins, “I do have a few things of my own to add, and I beg your indulgence for a few moments more.”

The smile that graces Sarah’s face is all the approval Dean needs to continue. “As many of you know, it is only within recent years that I have come to be acquainted with my brother again. In fact, I have known Sarah almost as long as I have known Sam as an adult, having met her only days after my reunion with him. But over the past two years, I have come to know them not only as a couple, but as warm, loving, intelligent individuals in their own right.”

He looks directly at Sam, whose face has softened since Dean began. “Sam, I am so very proud of you. You have grown so much over the last years, and while I do wish you would not insist on being the taller of us, I must allow that all your goodness needs that space to be physically bound within.” Sam laughs, ducking his head, and Dean grins at him before continuing. “Sarah, I have wished you well since our first meeting, and I do so again today. You have brought much joy into Sam’s life, and for that, I am eternally grateful.”

Dean looks around the table, his heart overflowing with the affection he feels for everyone gathered there. “By blood, we have very little family remaining. But not all family is measured by blood, and in other respects, we are greatly blessed.” He spares a smile for Jo and Ellen and another for Celeste and Gilda, all of whom are looking uncharacteristically sentimental. “Today, our family is extended greatly. And soon, perhaps, it will be so once more.” He winks at Sarah, who rolls her eyes but blushes at his implications. 

Raising his glass, he says, “To the happy couple. May this be only the first in a series of joyous days they share together.”

He hasn’t even put his glass down before Sam is pulling him into his arms. “Thank you,” he says, voice rough. “Dean, thank you for everything.”

“Of course.” Dean pulls away to smile at him. “Congratulations, Sammy.”

Sam makes a face at the childhood nickname. “That simply won’t do. I’m a respectable married man now, you know.”

“Married, yes.” Sarah comes to join them, linking her arm through Sam’s and smiling at them both. “But respectable? How boring that would be.”

Dean laughs and leans over to kiss her cheek. “You must keep him from becoming too dull, Mrs. Winchester.”

“I shall do my best,” she replies. 

They’re soon pulled away by other guests wishing to offer congratulations and advice. Dean is also swept up in conversation, and before he realizes it, it’s time for the couple to depart. Mr. Blake has made them a gift of a new house in town, and they will spend their first night as a married couple there.

There are cheers and applause as Sam and Sarah make their goodbyes. Dean hugs Sam and kisses Sarah’s hand, knowing he’ll see them again very soon. He even manages to restrain himself from making any bawdy remarks. They depart in a flurry of waves and well-wishes, soon followed by the other guests. Celeste and Gilda are the last to go, taking Jo and Ellen with them. As their carriage rolls away, Dean and Castiel stand on the steps, waving goodbye.

Dean sighs and turns to enter the house. There’s a strange ache in his heart, a wistfulness he can’t quite explain. “It’s over so soon,” he says to Castiel. “All that planning, all that excitement, and now it’s done.”

“But the effects will linger,” Castiel replies, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “As will the memories. It has been a good day, has it not?”

Dean looks up at him, so handsome in his dark blue coat. He raises one hand to cradle Castiel’s cheek and, for a brief moment, wonders how that hand would look with a gold ring around one finger. But he banishes the image as soon it appears. He has no need to dwell on dreams, not when he has flesh and blood and heart and soul before his very eyes.

“It has been a good day indeed,” he says. Then he lets his hand linger, turning it into a caress, and sees a spark of desire light in Castiel’s eyes. “I have a few ideas on how to make it even better, though.”

With a laugh, Castiel pulls him towards the stairs. “I am listening most intently, my love.”

And if they do not have the time or energy to bring all those ideas to fruition now, there will be other nights. An eternity of them, if Dean has his way.


End file.
